


This Can't Be Love

by My_Beating_Hart



Series: A Mahariel's Travels [53]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Falling In Love, Gen, Gen Work, Implied Sexual Content, Introspection, M/M, i have no idea what else to tag this as, there's actually a tag for that?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 12:01:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4624578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Beating_Hart/pseuds/My_Beating_Hart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This <i>can't</i> be love, Zevran Arainai thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Can't Be Love

This _can't_ be love, Zevran Arainai thinks.

This can't be love, he thinks as he watches a stoic Dalish ranger do his best not to laugh at a crude sword joke.

This can't be love, he thinks as he pushes away the inexplicable want to see that smile and hear that laugh again.

This can't be love, he thinks as he racks his brain for more bad jokes and amusing stories of his occasional failures under the Crows. (The one about the open window, the river and the urchins who stole his boots should do, no?)

This can't be love, he thinks as his chest starts to tighten whenever he looks at the other elf.

This can't be love, he thinks as he stares at the elf he tried and failed to kill.

This can't be love, he thinks as his breathing quickens when he keeps looking.

This can't be love, he thinks as he forces himself to look away every time before he can be caught.

This can't be love, he thinks as he examines every minute detail of the Dalish elf's face and hands from afar.

This can't be love, he thinks as he remembers that night in the tent so long ago, the memories of pure physical pleasure tinted with a haze of acidic regret and guilt that burns his stomach.

This can't be love, he thinks as he remembers the noises and the sight of the other elf under him, open and wanting, oh so vulnerable.

This can't be love, he thinks as he remembers the feeling of his soft lips and lean body against his own, warm and relaxed in the afterglow.

This can't be love, he thinks as he remembers the peace afterward.

This can't be love, he thinks as he tries not to crave that peace again.

This can't be love, he thinks as he wonders what Theron would look like with those braids undone.

This can't be love, he thinks as he wonders how they would feel running between his fingers.

This can't be love, he thinks as he finds himself smiling purely because Theron is smiling too.

This can't be love, he thinks as he imagines Theron smiling not at his jokes, but at him in the evening firelight.

This can't be love, he thinks as he begins to keep an eye on Theron during battle, to intercept opponents that try to go after the vulnerable archer on the edge of the fray.

This can't be love, he thinks as he volunteers for the last watch of the night so Theron can get some uninterrupted sleep after a long day, for once.

This can't be love, he thinks as he tugs pensively at his favourite earring, a deceptively plain and unremarkable band of gold with a story behind it.

This can't be love, he thinks as he pushes away the tight fluttering in his chest and forces it down, afraid of what it is and afraid of the consequences.

It can't be love.

But it is.

He _knows_ it is.

**Author's Note:**

> So apparently six hour car rides means I'm good at writing short, slightly choppy pieces on mobile.  
> Constructive criticism, whether on this piece or any others I've written, is very much appreciated!


End file.
